Constellations
by wingstiel
Summary: When the Doctor is unexpectedly forced to return to New York after a terrible, heartbreaking event, he almost doesn't change another ordinary person's life forever. Almost.
1. Prologue

**A/N: Sorry this chapter's short, but it's just the prologue for now. I'll be sure to add a longer, real chapter soon  
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**Yeah I know the whole idea is a bit cliche, but i really wanted to write this... maybe you could give it a chance? :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters other than my OC**

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><p>Hot tears streamed down the Doctor's face once again as he wandered aimlessly through the TADRIS's seemingly endless halls, alone again. Why did he always end up alone. This time, not even the sweet ethereal whispers of the TARDIS couldn't comfort him.<p>

He had trusted Clara with the information of her past selves, thinking she could handle all the information of what had happened, but it had all been to much for her. He had tried so hard to help her as she internally exploded with all the force of the vortex. She was gone. They were all gone. Amy, Rory, Rose, Martha, Donna, Mickey. All of them had left in one way or another. He could never protect them for long, no matter how hard he tried. It wasn't fair to any of them. All he ever did was mess things up.

Well he wouldn't anymore. He decided then and there that he would not do anything anymore. He was going to park the TARDIS on some desolate, uninhabited planet and spend the rest of his regeneration there, where he couldn't ruin anymore lives.

_They need you._

The TARDIS's soft voice floated down the corridor like a cold breeze, but the Doctor ignored her.

Finally the endless hall led to the console room, where he immediately started pushing and pulling the array of knobs and buttons to set the course.

Before he could push anything more, the all movement and noises from the TARDIS stopped, leaving an eery quiet. There was nothing, not even murmurs from her.

And then it all exploded back, invisible forces shoving the Doctor to and fro, swinging the doors open, and tossing him out into the nothingness. He frantically scrambled for a hold on something, anything, but he dropped several feet in a frantic freefall, until he hit the hard ground and was knocked unconsious.


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: So here's the first real chapter, which I'm hoping is way better than the prologue.**

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><p>Stella flopped down face-first on the burgundy duvet, smearing her already ruined eye makeup even more than it already was and trapping large strands of her blond hair between the bed and her face. She quickly rolled onto her back, realizing that the black marks would probably stain the reddish fabric, and that she couldn't afford another one. Slowly calming down, Stella breathed into her inhaler once before taking one good look at it and throwing it across the tight space that was her room. It was all her asthma's fault. No one wanted an actress with "complications" on Broadway or in any other major production at all.<p>

A faint buzzing came from inside Stella's handbag, which she recognized as her phone. Pulling it out from one of the many dark pockets and unlocking it, she saw it was a reminder she had set herself earlier that week. This particular reminder reported that Stella needed to get to work an hour earlier because she was working another co-worker's shift so he could visit his wife in hospital.

Stella let her hand flop down and groaned loudly. There really was no silver lining today, was there? Why hadn't she listened to her mum when she had told her she wouldn't find anything in America? There was nothing for her here or anywhere in the world.

Before she could reduce herself to tears again, her phone buzzed again, letting her know she needed to leave for work now unless she wanted to be late.

Stella shot up and quickly ran into the bathroom. After quickly re-applying her makeup, she decided it would probably be best to change into her red and white uniform for the 60s themed diner where she worked when she got there. Stuffing the hideous outfit in her bag along with other necessities, she grabbed her tan trench coat on her way out the door and continued to put it on as she descended three flights of stairs as quickly as humanly possible.

Once she rounded the corner of the block she lived on, and crossed several of the death traps called streets, Stella was met with a decision. She could either continue making her way down the busy streets and walk around Central Park, or she could cut through it and make it to the diner in half the time, but with more risk of running into muggers and such things when the sun set. Another short vibration from her phone and a quick glance at the sky told Stella that she probably should take the short-cut if she wanted to get to work on time.

The sun was slowly setting as she crossed an open stretch of grass and walked into a darker expanse of thick and obviously old trees. Stella knew there were dangers of coming through this way, but she kept telling herself that there was nothing to be afraid of. Even so, she whipped around when she thought she heard a twig break and heard the rustle of branches overhead. It turned out to be just a slightly dumpy looking pigeon taking flight from his nest in the limbs of a birch tree.

Stella continued to walk backwards just in case, glancing over her shoulder so she wouldn't bump into any trees. She managed to blindly reach out and grab a large stick to use to protect herself if she needed to. That was when the sound of breaking branches made Stella look up. The last thing she saw before she was knocked unceremoniously to the ground, out cold, by a crushing weight was a dark, vaguely human blur falling on top of her.

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><p><strong>AN: I hope you get why I called my story Constellations now. (get it? stella? conSTELLAtions?) Yeah, I have a weird sense of humor...**  
><strong>Also I might have added a very vague reference to West Side Story to this chapter as I was writing it, so kudos to you if you spotted it. <strong>


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